


Pressing Fingers To Your Temples (To Quell The Loudness In Your Head)

by action-cat (clytemnestras)



Category: Bandom, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Obedience, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/pseuds/action-cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just that when it's so loud, he can't stop. So Ghoul stops it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressing Fingers To Your Temples (To Quell The Loudness In Your Head)

Poison vibrates in the front seat, tapping his fingers rhythmlessly against his knee, the window, the dash. Tapping, tapping, over and over until the sound can cover up the noise in his head.

 

The world spins wildly out of control outside the car and under the sun and in his head and his fingers _tremble_ where they flit against his thigh. He doesn’t flinch when Ghoul’s hand comes down on his wrist, pinning it down flat against his leg.

 

The noise in his brain peters off for a while and the sky doesn’t notice the change.

 

**

 

Kid gets clipped in the ribs with a Spike bomb on the borderzones and Poison can’t stop pacing and shouting and _buzzing_ with rage and confusion. _Be okay be okay be okay_ runs circles in his head. He’s moving back and forth on his feet, impatience swelling in his bones and he jolts Jet’s shoulder as he tries to tug out the three little pieces of shrapnel poking out of Kid’s skin.

 

Everything goes white.

 

Kid yells out hoarsely and Poison feels like he flies out from his skin. He stands back and he shakes with the _ache_ to fix this. To stop them from passing over the zonelines for a bike they don’t need and erase this stupid mistake and he has his hands running through his hair over and over, tugging softly to make the noises calm and they _don’t_  and - and -

 

“Poison, stop. Sit down and stop, you’re not helping anyone like this.” Ghoul’s voice is sharp but not unkind, hand pressed to his temples. Poison sits.

 

Ghoul almost-smiles down at him and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s gonna be okay, we’re all fine.”

 

Jet presses the last bandage over Kid’s wounds and Poison can’t help but think, _yeah, it really will._

 

**

 

The moon is out to get him. Well, no, he’s not that paranoid but the sky feels too bright when they’re this far out of the city and the stars are a washed-out glimmer in the blue-grey sky.

 

Jet and Kid left four hours ago and won’t be back till morning with more food and more soap and more real daylight and it’s not that he’s _worried -_

 

“Think any louder and you’ll deafen the fucking jackals, Gee. Calm the fuck down, they’re gonna be fine. This is an easy run.” Ghoul pokes his tongue out and thwacks his tiny feet onto the table, stretching his legs out in tandem with the creaking of the wood.

 

Poison feels the unconvincing smile that spreads across his face and goes back to staring out the window, drumming his fingers on the pane. The shack trembles it’s response.

 

He cracks his knuckles one by one then flattens his hands on the table, patting out a syncopated rhythm; _tap, tap, tap._ His toes click against the concrete in a counterbalance and his eyes flick up to Ghoul, feels the thrill spill down his spine when he sees irritance there.

 

He taps harder, louder. He keeps going, pushing until -

 

Hands grab his wrists and pin them down - like in the car, like before. “Fucking _stop._ ”

 

Nervous laughter bubbles in his throat. He meets Ghoul’s eyes. “No.”

 

“What did you just say?” Ghoul’s grip tightens around his skin and it’s oh so _almost_ …

 

“I said no. I won’t stop. You have to stop me.”

 

He watches as interest and anger and a billion other things flit along Ghoul’s face before it settles on a small smile. “Oh.”

 

Poison can hear his heartbeat, louder than anything, even the noises of worry and aching that bounce off the inside of his head.

 

Ghoul stares at him - dares him to close his eyes and stop this before it starts. Then he slowly peels his fingers from around Poison’s wrist and nods once.

 

Okay.

 

Poison take in a shuddery breath and waits.

 

Ghoul’s eyes dance over him for minutes, assessing and making him wait. His skin buzzes with anticipation but he stays still, tries to do it right.

 

His eyes drop closed after a while and he doesn’t move, not even when he hears Ghoul shifting in his seat across the table, not even when he feels the body heat press closer to him, breath hot on his neck.

 

“Open your eyes”, Ghoul whispers, letting his lips press softly against Poison’s ear. “Get up and go kneel on the mattress okay? You’re doing so good.”

 

It’s almost like the universe starts to quiet down around him. His muscles loose the elastic tension that had him quivering in his seat when he stands and moves towards the mattress on the floor. The little cabin seems almost peaceful from on top of the bedsprings, getting onto his knees and sitting back on his heels.

 

Ghoul looks down on him with something soft in his eyes. “You’re so good. I need you to keep being good for me, do you think you can do that?”

 

“Yes, yeah. I, yeah, I’m good.” He gasps when the mattress dips under Ghoul’s weight and his shirt is tugged up over his head. He swallows and loses himself to the sound of breathing and rustling and silence.

 

Ghoul presses kisses onto his shoulder blades and tense aches rush out of them, his spine feels liquid and pliable under Ghoul’s rough hands and he lets himself be lead. Ghoul’s tongue slides wetly over his skin as he mouths down Poison’s spine, pushing him forward onto his hands and knees, weight balanced evenly. Poison feels his lungs struggle and relax, panting into every touch.

 

Ghoul’s hands fly over his chest, his thumbs rubbing gently against each nipple as his fingers fan across his ribs. He moves down, tickling and scratching softly where his callouses catch against the pale skin and Poison arches into him with a gasp.

 

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Don't move, just let go, okay. You’re so so good for me.”

 

Poison closes his eyes and drifts away.

 

Hands settle on his hips and pull at his pants until they’re twining around his knees. Lips press softly at the base of his spine and then fingers brush wet and soft against his hole.

 

He wants to shift back, rock his hips until they slip inside him but - but Ghoul doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. So he waits.

 

“That’s it, good boy.” Ghoul presses another kiss onto his back before pushing two fingers inside.

 

Poison gasps softly but keeps his hips still. The fingers press forward then still and Ghoul feathers his back in kisses. He hears himself whine from somewhere distant and then the fingers are moving inside him, slowly opening him and spreading him apart. His fingers dig into the mattress and little noises spill out of his throat as they push and crook inside and it’s so quiet and so good  he can hardly make himself breathe.

 

“So good, baby. Look at you.”

 

He feels good, he feels _so good._

 

The fingers pull out and he flinches with the feeling of emptiness but Ghoul is right there, shushing him and slicking his sweaty hair back off his face and then pressing inside so slowly it feels like forever before he’s pressed flush against Poison’s back.

 

Ghoul rocks a little inside him but doesn’t pull back, just stays pressed slickly against Poison’s skin holding him up by his chest and cradling him there. “Are you ready?”

 

“Yes. _Please yes_.” He doesn't recognise his voice, throaty and distant and oh - Ghoul pulls his hips back in one smooth slide then thrusts back in. He moves slowly, so awfully, terribly slowly but it doesn’t matter because all Poison can feel is the weight of his body and the slide of his slick hands over Poison’s cock and the deep ache where he fills him up over and over again.

 

“So good for me, Gee.”

 

He mumbles something, lost in the feeling of skin and sweat and good, good, good. He needs - “I need. I need to, _please._ ”

 

Ghoul’s breath stutters and so do his hips. He presses in deeper and twists his wrist as his hand slides over Poison, faster now. “You can come. That’s it baby, come for me.”

 

Poison feels wetness splash against his chest.

 

Ghoul pushes into him harder now, deeper and it feels too much but it doesn’t, at the same time. He’s so warm and feels so distant and nice and hardly notices when Ghoul goes still inside him until he’s being rolled onto his back and kissed over and over and over.

 

Ghoul shifts away for a minute or maybe an hour, pressing a cloth against his stomach and his chest and cleaning him off, wrapping him up in arms and a blanket and body heat. A warm nose nuzzles his throat from behind.

 

“Was that good? Did it - is it quiet, now?”

 

He tries to talk but the words can’t tumble out of his mouth, so he nods and presses himself back into Ghoul’s body.

 

He falls asleep to the sound of silence.

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled "ha ha ha lucy writes porn"


End file.
